The One With The Boy

                                    

                                          
        
                          
        I yawned as I handed the taxi driver the exact amount and rushed out, looking at the open gates in confusion. They were usually closed. Mr. Ed never kept the gates open, he was pretty strict on visitors. I cautiously stepped inside, looking around for intruders. Stepping into the house, I noticed that there was no one in sight. I walked into the living room, Mr. Vokolv's usual resting spot, but there was no one there either. His wheelchair was next to the recliner, but there was no Mr. Volkolv in it. I was about to use my phone to call Mrs. Volkolv, when something grabbed my leg from under the table. I screamed, but someone shushed me and yanked me down. My elbow slammed on the floor and I let out a muffled groan at the brief pain. I turned around to see Mr. Volkolv's dark eyes glaring at me.
                          
        "What the hell-"
                          
        "Shut up." He hissed from his hiding spot.
                          
        "Why are we under here?" I asked in annoyance, "My elbow hurts-"
                          
        "I said to shut up."
                          
        I opened my mouth to complain again, but the soft sound of two feet pitter pattering into the living room stopped me. Mr. Volkolv raised his finger to my lips, and for some strange reason, my cheeks tinged pink.
                          
        "He's coming," he whispered to me, and I felt fear crawling up my spine. Who was coming? Was it a murderer? My breathing increased but his finger was still on my lips, his face set into stone. My throat closed up as the steps approached the table, and Mr. Volkolv let out a low, soft curse next to me. "Damn it. You were too loud."
                          
        The tablecloth was lifted and I screamed, expecting to see a gun or some sort of killing device aimed at me.
                          
        Instead, it was a child's smiling face, his grin stretching from one end of his face to the other. "I FOUND YOU!" He yelled, "I WIN!"
                          
        I turned to look at Mr. Volkolv with a confused expression, who had a smile on his face. My heart stopped. Mr. Volkolv was smiling. He never smiled. Ever.
                          
        "Yeah, you did. Congrats, buddy," he said, that big grin still on his face. He didn't look at me as he army crawled out from underneath the table, pulling himself out of his wheelchair.
                          
        Was I seeing right? Was Mr. Volkolv.... interacting with a toddler. Nicely. And playfully. I watched them cautiously, wondering if it was really him I was seeing.
                          
        "You're the seeker!" The toddler giggled, pointing at him before scurrying off. Mouth agape, I turned to Mr. Volkolv.
                          
        "What?" He snapped, his face turning light red. "Why the f- are you looking at me like that?"
                          
        I blinked at him. "Were you, uh, playing hide and seek with a boy?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in clear astonishment. I crossed my arms, "What happened to the mean, unapproachable Mr. Volkolv?" I blurted out without thinking.
                          
        He stared at me, and his eyes darted to the door behind me.        
                          
        "I apologized. I am approachable. Leave me alone, I have something to attend to. Prepare us lunch, the boy is dining with us." He left the room with a grunt about me being nosy, and I heard a tiny giggle resonate around the hallway.
                          
        My eyebrows still raised disbelievingly, I headed to the kitchen to make some tacos.
                          
        Was Mr. Volkolv actually being nice? Or was it just because there was a little boy at his house?